Beginnings
by AmacLucky13
Summary: Emma shook her head. She couldn't be a mother. This kid would be a basket case growing up with her around. She... She wouldn't be enough. She's never enough. And she would be all this kid would ever have. No family, no father, no money, and no way to take care of them. Emma shook her head pressing her hand to her stomach. A baby. (Set during Emma's time in jail.)


**2001**

"You alright in there, Swan?" A prison guard shouted.

Emma sighed heavily leaning against the small toilet in her cell. Her stomach was rolling. Again. Just like it had been for the last two days. She couldn't understand why she was so damn sick. Almost two months in prison her stomach had never bothered her before. Why now? She supposed it could be the terrible awful food they serve here, but something in her gut told her that wasn't quite right. Emma knew if it really was the food then she would have been sick the entire time she had been here, but this really horrible vomiting had only started a couple days before.

"Just wonderful," Emma answered sarcastically.

"What's wrong with you?" Loretta, the prison guard, came to the cell door. "You haven't been able to hold anything down for the last two days."

"Don't know," Emma shrugged, moving towards the bed. "I feel fine."

"Most people getting sick this often, don't feel fine." Loretta shook her head before walking away.

Emma stared at the cell door. But that was the thing, she did feel fine. After she voided the contents of her stomach she always felt perfectly fine, and even just before she always felt fine. It wasn't until just before she was about to lose it did she not feel okay. Emma dropped onto the bed curling up around the pillow there, listening to the sounds around her. She could hear metal doors clanging shut, guards talking to prisoners, prisoners talking to the guards. Sighing softly, Emma stared at the white wall in front of her. Ironically, this was probably one of the best places she's been in, in a long time. Roof over her head, bed to sleep in, and three square meals every day. She couldn't say that before when she was with Neal...

Neal... Emma's jaw clenched tightly as she glared at the wall. Just thinking about him made her wish she could find him again so she could punch him in the face. She owed him that much. He should be doing 11 months, not her. He played her, set her up to take the fall for his crime, one she had offered to help him get away with. Why not just break up with her like a normal person if he didn't want to be with her anymore? She should have known better, she should have known she wasn't enough. She never is. Never has been enough for anyone in her life. Emma could feel the hot tears burning in her eyes, which she quickly wiped away.

What is wrong with her? She's never been this emotional before. No matter what's happened to her in the past, letting her emotions run away from her isn't going to help anything. Swiping at her cheeks and pressing her face into the pillow she desperately wished she had something else to think about. But – honestly – what else did she have to do with her time in here?

Unlike almost every other prisoner here Emma had nothing to look forward to. This is a low security prison. Everyone here will be getting out at some point. They have people coming to visit them, someone to go home to once they're out of here, and they have something to look forward to. What does she have? She had Neal, at least she thought she did. But she has nothing when she leaves this place. No family, no boyfriend, no car, no money, no roof, and still no way to fend for herself. At least everyone else here has something waiting for them on the other side. Emma, well she has nothing. Sadly being locked away in this prison cell may not be the worst thing about the situation she's managed to find herself in. With that depressing thought Emma pushed her face further into the pillow as the burning tears escaped to trickle down her cheeks.

Every week here all the prisoners are allowed to take the money they earn from doing various jobs around the prison and buy basic supplies from a little store in the prison. Of course, since you don't need much and all the basic human needs are always met there really isn't a lot to buy. Wandering around Emma couldn't shake the odd sensation like she was forgetting something. Staring at the shelves Emma thought back to a couple months ago before she was locked away, before she knew the kind of scum Neal really was to standing in a store like she was now staring at a shelf. It was the same situation except Neal wasn't shooting her looks from where he was distracting the clerk wondering why she was just standing there. Of course, she had been standing there because she realized she needed a highly important item before they left the store. Tampons.

Emma felt her jaw go slack as she realized what she was currently staring at. The cheapest, most basic form of tampons, and pads in existence but she rapidly realized that memory she had nearly lost herself in was the last time she had used tampons. Thinking back Emma hadn't bought them here once in the nearly two months she'd been here. Which either meant she had some serious medical condition or... Her eyes widened and she dropped what she was holding causing a loud clatter on the ground. The guard at the door glanced at her and immediately began moving in her direction.

"Something wrong?" The guard asked.

"I'm pregnant." Emma said listlessly staring at the tampons. "I think."

"Need a pregnancy test over here." The guard called to the woman working in the small prison store. "Come on."

One pregnancy test later Emma was back in her cell with the box sitting across from her on the small bed but she hadn't been able to take it yet. Instead she was just sitting there staring at it absentmindedly. Her mind was elsewhere right now, thinking about all the different repercussions of this. She couldn't believe she was pregnant. How could this happen? Well, that part she knew. But they had been careful, hadn't they? They used condoms but she supposed that nothing is fool proof. On top of everything else, a baby was going to be tossed in the mix. She was locked away in a prison for crying out loud, at the hands of the baby's father no less. Emma could feel her breathing rising rapidly, anxiety clawing at her chest. She was in prison! She couldn't care for a child. She can't even take care of herself. How is she supposed to be responsible for another human life?

Emma shook her head. She couldn't be a mother. This kid would be a basket case growing up with her around. She... She wouldn't be enough. She's never enough. And she would be all this kid would ever have. No family, no father, no money, and no way to take care of them. Emma shook her head pressing her hand to her stomach. A baby. No, she couldn't do this. Grabbing the test and shoving it under her pillow so she wouldn't have to look at it anymore. There was still a chance she was wrong, right? Curling up on her pillow she took comfort in the fact that she might just be wrong. She might not be pregnant. She could have the stomach flu or something.

Emma squeezed her eyes shut as she began to doze off, knowing full well she was fooling herself. She was pregnant. But until she took that test she could pretend she hadn't just messed up this kid's life before it had begun. Screwing up her own life was fine, it only hurt her. Bringing a child into this mess wasn't fair, this kid didn't ask for this, and shouldn't have to deal with the fall out of it's idiot parents.

No matter what, Emma thought to herself, she would do right by this kid. Somehow, someway, she would do the right thing.

"Congratulations," Emma mutters softly to herself.

Sitting cross legged on her bed holding the pregnancy test in her hand Emma kept staring at it. It had been a week since she bought the silly thing. Two months, she had been here for two months now. And – of course – today would be the day she decides to take the test and the very same day Neal decides to make sure the hits just keep on coming. He sends her a envelope with the car keys in it, the keys to the bug. The one she'd stolen from him. Of course, why would he need it anymore? He's got 20,000 dollars to play with now. He can buy a car, one that's not stolen. It just felt like a slap to the face. Almost as though he was saying I'm done with this car where we shared pretty much our entire relationship in, just like I'm done with you. As if sending her to jail for the crime he committed wasn't bad enough. As if sending her to jail for the crime he committed and leaving her in here _knocked _up wasn't bad enough.

All the anger she had felt thinking about the car and Neal evaporated when she returned her attention to what was in front of her. A positive pregnancy test. Emma swallowed thickly forcing herself to release the death grip she had on her glasses from thinking about Neal. Instead she choose to focus on the mind numbing terror she was currently feeling looking at the positive test. Although she had already convinced herself she must be pregnant because there was no way she somehow missed at least one period if not two with being pregnant. Seeing the plus sign on the test confirming it had been more than she could handle.

Upon seeing the little plus sign come into focus on the test she felt a wave of nausea race through her that had nothing to do with morning sickness. Then a wave of anger flashed through her because she just wanted to be done with Neal. If she ever saw him again she'd happily punch him in the face or knee him in the groin but she didn't want a constant lifelong reminder of what he had done to her, which is what this baby could be. Lastly, a wave of mind numbing terror had washed over her rendering everything else but the sound of her heart pounding in her chest away. Thoughts of Neal, anger, and anything else just completely washed away. Instead all she could do was stare at the test thinking about all the different ways this was all wrong.

Starting with the idea that she had never even thought about having kids before. It wasn't even a blip on the radar. How could she be a mother when she never had one growing up? She knew absolutely nothing about kids or how to take care of them. Never mind actually being in charge of one's well being and seeing that they grew up into a well behaved and decent human being. The next problem being she didn't even have two cents to rub together never mind enough money to take care of a baby. Exact numbers escape her because she's never thought about it before, but children are expensive. That's why foster homes receive checks every month for the kids they're taking care of, to ease the strain. Of course, that's why foster homes are as awful as they are, the system is broken, but never mind that now. Not to mention she was in prison! How is she supposed to care for an infant in here?

Emma stared sadly at the test in her hand feeling hot tears coming to her eyes again. Pregnancy hormones, Emma thought to herself, that explains the weird emotional mood swings. She already messed this kid's life up, she thought. They weren't even born yet and she's already doing a pretty crappy job as a mother.

Mother, Emma felt that panic again. That's what she was. A mother. Covering her stomach with her hand again she shook her head almost violently back and forth.

"I'm sorry," Emma shook her head, her voice breaking, and tears streaming down her face. "I can't be a mother. I can't. I won't condemn you to having me for a mother or having a life like mine. I won't. I promise you that much. You'll have better."

Emma looked down at her stomach. But what was better?

"Well, you have several options open to you, Miss Swan." The staff consultant spoke kindly. An older woman who has seen plenty of women here in this prison and just wants to help. Emma had met her when she first arrived for an evaluation. "Where would you like to start?"

After the prison found out Emma was expecting she had been transferred to another cell into a solitary confinement designed to keep woman in special circumstances. Emma fit the bill as she was no longer able to have contact with other prisoners to avoid risking any physical harm to her or the baby. She was required regular doctor visits from the prison doctor every so many weeks. And – of course – she had a meeting scheduled to fill out paperwork and decide what would happen to the baby. This is what Emma is currently doing, having a meeting to decide her baby's future. Curled up in the chair with her knees pulling to her chest and her cuffed hands around her legs she was sitting at a table with the woman just around the corner. A mountain of paperwork waiting to be filled out on the desk in front of her.

"What options?" Emma asked.

"Well, should you decide to keep the baby arrangements will need to be made while you finish out your sentence as your pregnancy will end before you finish your sentence, correct?" The woman asked gently. Emma nodded. "Well, then we would have to decide if the baby would be staying with a foster family or with next of kin."

"I don't have any family and besides I'm not keeping the baby." Emma shook her head firmly. "I can't."

"Are you sure that's what you want, Miss Swan." The woman said softly, she reached out to touch Emma's hand. Emma flinched away in response. "No one is forcing you."

"It's not what _I_ want." Emma shook her head. "You don't have any idea how..."

Emma trailed off feeling her eyes burn from unshed tears as she looked away shaking her head. She wiped her face on her shoulder before steeling herself to look at the woman again. The older woman looked concerned, genuinely concerned. Emma knew the woman only wanted to help but she didn't understand and Emma didn't wish to explain.

"I can't keep this baby." Emma said resolutely despite her shaky voice. "I _have _to give him the best chance, and it's not with me."

"Okay," the woman said slowly. She wanted to argue, Emma could see it, but she wasn't because she knew she wouldn't get anywhere. "Well, then your options are a little different. The baby can either be placed in a foster family or you can begin to look at adoption agencies."

"No foster families. I draw the line there." Emma asked curiously. "Adoption agencies?"

"Yes," the woman nodded. "Newborns are perfect for any adoption agency as most families looking to adopt through them are always looking for babies or toddlers. That's assuming you don't want an abortion, correct?"

"No, I don't want an abortion." Emma shook her head. "Just because I was a fool doesn't mean this kid shouldn't have a chance to live it's life. So, where do we start?"

The woman showed Emma several different adoption agencies trying to find the perfect fit for her. Of course, the woman assured her that the agencies don't give up until they find a home for the child and all the facilities they use to house the children are always top notch Emma insisted on finding the perfect one. Once she found one she was satisfied with Emma then had to meet with a representative of the agency to go over the details, as well as a legal representative from the agency to explain what would happen depending on what kind of an adoption Emma could choose.

"We offer both closed and open adoption." The legal representative began to explain. "Do you know what those are?"

"I have a vague idea." Emma shrugged. "Care to explain anyway?"

"Open adoption would allow you to help us select a family for your child now." The legal representative began to explain. "You would play a major role in deciding what family would be raising your child. A lot of mothers choose a family and then invite them to the doctors appointments, although in this case it would be difficult but you could have contact with them. Get to know them so you know you child will be safe. Once you have given birth they would take over as parents. They would legally be the child's parents but you would have access to them and your child as they would have access to you as well. Be it your medical history should a problem arise health wise but you would also get letters or mail from them as the child grows. Often these families stay in contact in an open adoption so the birth mother has peace of mind. Although, your rights to your child are absolved entirely, the open adoption is an agreement between the birth mother and the adoptive family that they will stay in contact with each other."

"And a closed adoption?" Emma asked softly.

"A closed adoption is simply that." The legal representative explained. "If you decide on a closed adoption then the child will be removed from your care after an adjustment period and placed with a family we select ourselves to make sure you don't meet the family and they don't meet you. Afterward we have a six month period to make sure this is what everyone wants. To make sure you are sure about your decision to give your child and that the family is ready to adopt. The child will spend the six months with the adoptive family. At the six month mark there will be a court hearing which you will be notified of. If you choose to change your mind this will be a place to voice that opinion but you must give notice beforehand. On that day the judge will absolve you and the father of the baby of all your rights as their legal parents giving complete legal custody to the adoptive family. A new birth certificate will be filed for the baby naming the adoptive parents instead."

"And if the family doesn't want the baby?" Emma asked. "What happens?"

"You're notified the adoption fell through and we began looking again unless you've changed your mind." He answered swiftly. "Then we promptly return your child to you. If we continue looking for a new family you will be notified of every move including the baby's whereabouts at all times while we are between families. Once he is placed with a new family we notify you but not of his whereabouts to keep you and the adoptive family from meeting. At any point you change your mind the baby is returned."

"What do you mean everything is sealed?" Emma asked.

"A closed adoption means that neither side has access to the other." He answered simply. "The adoptive family won't be able to find you. The birth certificate will be sealed in our files and the only other copy of the original will be yours. And it also means you won't be able to find them. Once the closed adoption is chosen neither side has contact with the other. Looking into the sealed records of a closed adoption is breaking the law. Any other questions?"

"No," Emma shook her head. "Closed adoption, please."

"Are you sure?" The agency representative asked carefully.

"I'm sure I want everyone to stop asking me that." Emma shook her head. "I'm pregnant, I'm not an idiot. Circumstances may make you think otherwise but I'm not in here because I don't have a head, I'm here because I have a heart, and I should have listened to my head when I had the chance. Now, do you think you need to keep asking me if I'm sure or can we get on with this?"

Both of the representatives went over all the information with Emma, explaining to her how everything would go down. They had told her that they usually wait until a certain amount of time before taking the child into their care to make sure they don't hurt the mother or child by pulling them away from each other too soon. Emma opted out on that choice wanting her baby to be placed as soon as possible. Both of the representatives looked as though they wanted to argue but held their tongues. Instead they moved on explaining what her rights would be once the final hearing took place. While she is not legally the mother of the child anymore, she is also not legally bound to stay away from the child should they ever locate each other. Instead she is a legal stranger to the child like anyone else would be. The meeting ended with the representatives shaking her hand as they promised to find her baby the perfect home. As far as she was concerned the baby would be in a perfect home as long as it didn't involve her being around them.

Holding a hand over her stomach a small bump just barely starting to show three months as she laid in bed that night. She stared out at the night sky through the window above her head. She could just barely make out the stars there. Emma sighed softly, her heart ached.

The last thing in the world she wanted to do was give this baby up for adoption. Keeping this baby would mean having exactly what everyone else here has, something to look forward to getting out for. Everyone here had something on the other side. All she had was an old beat up yellow bug with far too many memories in it. What was she going to do with that? This baby could be that. It would put an end to being alone, it would put an end to being without a family, and it would mean a reason to get up in the morning.

Emma shook her head clearing those thoughts away. Those were selfish thoughts, it wouldn't be fair to the baby. He didn't exist to make her life better. No one should ask a baby to be a person's everything. It wouldn't be fair to place that on them. A parent should be a baby's everything not the other way around. Emma would be ruining the kid's life if she asked that of them. She absolutely refused to make this child's life anything like her own. She wanted better for them, she wanted them to have everything she never did. Emma wanted this child to have two parents that love them more than anything and are ready to be parents, who have wanted to be parents but couldn't for whatever reason. She wanted this baby to have everything, suffering to make that happen would be well worth it.

The prison doctor went over the repercussions of giving up the baby so close to giving birth. Of course, the entire time the doctor was speaking he seemed bored and uninterested in what he was saying. Emma only half listened to the list of effects it could have on her. She didn't care much about the repercussions to her, she only cared about the baby, and since the doctor never once mentioned anything about what would happen to the baby she wasn't interested in what he had to say. The only slight mention to how it would affect the baby was that he would immediately start on being bottle fed instead of breast fed since there was no point in getting them used to her if they would be leaving her so soon.

Stupid hormones, Emma thought to herself blinking away tears again. At every turn Emma felt like bawling her eyes out. Mostly because at every turn she couldn't stop herself from wondering what this baby would look like. Would they have Neal's eyes or hers? Her smile or Neal's? Her laugh? Her chin? Neal's nose? At every turn she wondered what kind of a person they would become and hoped they only had the best parts of herself and Neal. Emma hoped the baby wouldn't be a troublemaker. She desperately hoped the baby never knew what it was like inside of a prison cell. She hoped and prayed this baby would do something good with its life. Something better than she or Neal ever had. Emma just wanted this baby to only ever know love and kindness, to never believe it could only depend on itself, she wanted this baby to have a home, and a family. Something she knew this baby would never be able to have with her.

"I wish I could make you understand this now." Emma whispered softly, gently rubbing her stomach. "I wish I could explain this to you right here and now and make you understand why you can never know me. Why you should never come looking for me or your father."

Emma sighed softly glancing at her stomach feeling only a little silly talking to herself but she remembered vaguely hearing somewhere before babies can hear their mother from inside the womb. That babies are comforted by the sound of her voice. Emma wondered if they could understand their mothers too. Sighing heavily and sadly Emma rubbed a hand over her stomach again.

"I don't know if you understand me but since I may never get the chance to explain this to you, kid, I may as well do it now." Emma inhaled sharply. "The representatives from the adoption agency mentioned most families like to choose their own names for the baby, so I hope you don't mind that I call you kid instead. At least, this way I'll have something to call you in the meantime and your family will still be able to pick you out a proper name." Emma blinked trying to find the right words. "I can't be a mother. I've never had a mother of my own. I'm probably the last person in the world you want to be your mother, kid. I can't even manage to take care of myself. I'm stuck here in a prison cell because I trusted the wrong person. I let my walls down and let your father in and I never should have."

Emma scoffed softly turning her head to stare at the white wall across from the bed. A wry expression masking her face as her walls slammed down, growing thicker with every passing day as she tried to steel herself for the inevitable of losing yet another person in her life.

"My own birth parents, every foster family, Lily, Ingrid, and now Neal Cassidy." Emma practically snarled the last name. "Your father is a real piece of work." Emma shook her head. "It's a long list of people, you'd think I'd be used to it by now, or at least know better. But I didn't, I ignored my gut, and followed my heart, and look where that landed me. Up shit creek without a paddle. I should have known, all these people in my life who have just left me. It's not them, it's me. I'm just... I'm just not loveable."

Emma's voice broke thinking about every person who has ever left her behind. With the list so long, how could it possibly be anything but her?

"Which is why I have to give you up." Emma felt the tears freely rolling down her cheeks now but she didn't care. There was no one around to see her break, only her baby. "I don't have anything to give you. I'm not enough, I'm _never _enough. You'll be with someone who wants you, who can offer more than I ever can, and you'll be safe. I promise you that much. That's all I have to offer you. I'll make sure you're safe, in a good home, with people who will love in, and care for you in a way I never can. You'll be with someone who is enough. And you shouldn't look for me because I'll only bring you down, I bring everyone down around me. I'm better off alone, and you're better off without me."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into the pillow as she rolled over. Curling in on herself Emma placed her hand over her stomach once more as she whispered to the baby, pleading and begging and hoping they'll hear her plea.

"Don't look for your father either. He'll only hurt you." Emma said definitively despite the tears. After a few minutes of trying to pull herself under control and wiping away the last of her tears. "And I know it's not much advice, but I hope you'll remember this your whole life. Follow your gut, kid. Don't let anyone push you around, if something feels wrong or right just follow your gut it will tell you what to do. If there's one thing I've learned in my very short, insufficient time here, it's to always trust your gut. No matter what anyone else says or thinks, follow your gut it won't ever steer you wrong."

"Uh, kid," Emma touched her stomach. "You got to stop with all the kicking and get to sleep or just stay still for five minutes or five hours. Please, go for the five hours I need some sleep without you kicking me in the bladder forcing me to get up every five minutes to pee."

Emma muttered to her stomach. She could still feel the baby moving around in her stomach swatting at her insides because apparently they were very much in the way of her baby's constant movements. She just wished they would sit still for a few minutes. Emma sighed thinking back to her appointment earlier when the doctor offered to tell her the sex of the baby but she refused. Knowing would make it all the harder to let go of them when the time came. She knew she would be picturing what they would look like if she knew the gender, wondering even more about the personality, and desperately wishing she could be there to see them grow up. Since she knew that wasn't in the cards she was doing her best to distance herself as much as possible.

However, the further along she got into her pregnancy she quickly realized how attached to this baby she already was. She couldn't stop herself from talking to them on a daily basis about anything little thing. It was like having a friend who was a really good listener. Emma knew letting her emotions the best of her wouldn't help matters in the long run but it was hard to stop herself.

This baby was part of her whether she liked it or not.

It was a piece of her and Neal and no matter which way she spun it she was having a hard time not thinking about the baby growing inside of her. These nine months might be the only time she ever gets to spend with them. And while this baby may never consciously remember her she hoped some part of this time she did spend with them would stick. Maybe these nine months or ten months as the doctor keeps correcting her would be something good to remember her by. She gave him life and a chance to be free of the burdens of his parents. Hopefully, that would enough.

Alas, she knew that wasn't the truth of the matter. No matter how hard she tried she knew she would never stop her child from asking the inevitable question: _Why didn't my birth parents want me?_

It was a question she knew all too well. A question she had seen other children in the same situation ask time and time again. And time after time she watched it go unanswered. Every time she thought about her child asking that question and thinking he wasn't good enough to be raised by their birth parents she just wished that what she keeps repeating over and over sticks. _I'm the one who isn't good enough, kid. _

Clutching her stomach desperately she wished that part would stick, that somehow she could make them hear her. That her kid would understand that she's not giving him away because she doesn't want them, that she's not doing this to hurt them. Emma just wished she could make her remember this, that she isn't fit to be a parent and she's giving him up to give him his best chance in life. It's not with her. It won't be with her. She can't even give herself her best chance. Less than 20 years on the planet and she's already royally and spectacularly wrecked her life. Who knows how long it will take her to put the pieces back together again?

Emma closed her eyes. She remembered once hearing stories about children who were adopted, that they didn't always look for their birth parents because they viewed their adoptive parents as their only parents. Their adoptive parents were the only ones that mattered to them because they raised them, so as far they were concerned in every sense they were their parents. They didn't need to go looking for the people who had given them up. Despite the painful thought of being replaced by someone else, the horrible painful thought of someone else earning her child's affection, and looking at them and thinking 'that's my mommy.' Despite how much it hurt to think her kid would never know her, that her child would replace her with someone else she desperately wished for it to happen. Emma hoped that her baby would have a mother that could fill the void she knows she's leaving behind in her child.

It's something that cannot be helped. Emma understands this, knows it painfully in fact, there's a void left in a child's heart that a mother's love is meant to fill. It's this horrible void left in a child's heart when they don't know the love a child, a feeling of being incomplete like something is missing from them but never quite knowing what that something is. Not until you see someone with their mother, when you watch a child skin their knee, and see a mother kiss away the tears. It's those moments when you come out of school to get on a bus to head to an empty house and you see other children rushing into their mother's waiting arms. See the mother hanging on their child's every word with the brightest of smiles. Moments of sitting in the nurse's office sick with the flu and watching another child getting picked up by their mother. Watching the mother soothe the illness with a few simple touches, pull them into their arms, and kiss it all better just by being there. It's watching those kind of moments, Emma realized what she never really had, someone to kiss away the tears. Something she thought she had with Neal, someone to hold when she felt terrible, when she was sick, or lost. Emma realizes she was trying to fill this void in her heart with love for someone else. Although, she understands now that the only thing that can fill a void like that, is a mother's love.

Emma hopes her baby finds a mother like that. She hopes this adoption agency picks him a good home with people who can care for, love, and nurture her child in a way she never could. After all, she can't be a mother she's never had a mother. How would she know how to soothe a child? Who would she ask for help? No mother to consult with for help. How could she do anything but fail this child?

She's good at that, she thinks, failing people. She's never been what anyone has wanted. Not her birth parents, not her first foster family who tossed her to the side to make room for their own kids, and certainly no one else after that. She may as well be cursed, driving away the people she cares about most. Letting her baby go is the best thing she could do for the kid.

"Oh, kid," Emma sighed drawn out of her thoughts by another kick to the bladder. "Please, stop moving. I'm begging you, what's it going to take to get you to calm down enough to sleep or relax? Or whatever it is that you do in there."

Heaving herself out of bed she headed for the small toilet in the cell. The closer she got to her due date the more she needed a nearby toilet at a near constant. It seemed the baby had taken to using it for all sorts of different things. Like a punching bag, a bed, a seat, a pillow, and whatever else they needed it for. Of course, it was driving Emma crazy because she had other organs. What didn't they want to take a break and abuse one of those, just for a change?

Sighing Emma carefully flopped herself back into the bed, feeling the baby moving once more, and she groaned wishing he would just stop. It's been like this for the past few nights now with the baby moving at near constant making it impossible to relax in order to fall asleep. Once she's asleep she hasn't been woken by the baby moving around, it's just the getting to sleep part that's eluding her so much. As Emma began talking again she felt the baby began to slow its movements, but the moment she stopped they started up again with the kicking and moving around.

"That's it?" Emma scoffed. "You want me to talk?" Emma sighed. "Great, what am I supposed to talk about until you fall asleep? Huh? Any suggestions from the peanut gallery? Requests? Topic conversations? A story?" Emma frowned to herself. "I don't know any good stories that would particularly soothing, except maybe fairytales. Fairytales, ha, what a crock. There's no such thing."

Letting her head fall back onto the pillow Emma started humming to herself wondering what she could talk about long enough for the kid to get settled and hope that stopped him from moving for the night. As she hummed she didn't notice she had started singing along with the song.

"Well, I just heard the news today," Emma sang softly. "It seems my life is gonna change. I closed my eyes, begin to pray, then tears of joy stream down my face. With arms wide open, under the sunlight, welcome to this place. I'll show you everything. With arms wide open, with arms wide open."

Emma kept singing softly to herself as she realized the baby was starting to settle down again, apparently soothed or calmed just by the sound of her voice or knowing she was still awake she didn't know. Frankly, she didn't really care what it was keeping him from moving so much provided it allowed her to finally get some sleep after being deprived of it for nearly a week.

"If I had just one wish, only one demand. I hope he's not like me, I hope he understands, that he can take this life, and hold it by the hand, and he can greet the world with arms wide open." Emma felt her stutter through the lyrics for a moment when she realized just how much she wished that were true. She does hope her child is nothing like her. "With arms wide open, under the sunlight. Welcome to this place, I'll show you everything. With arms wide open, now everything has changed. I'll show you love, I'll show you everything."

As she closed out the song she realized her kid wasn't moving anymore. Hoping he had finally dozed off Emma hoped this baby wasn't like her or like Neal. She hoped this baby would only embody their good parts and leave everything else with the two of them. Closing her eyes Emma drifted off into sleep comforted by the thought that her baby would find a good home with a mother who would love him like she never could, and that they wouldn't be like her.

They would have a better life. They would be better off without her around. If that happened then everything she would ever suffer, everything she would have to endure would have been worth it because then she had done something good with her life. Emma would be happy with that knowledge, that she had done well by her child, and if she never makes another good decision in her life then she'll be okay with that.

No matter how much they try to prepare you for the pain of labor, there aren't enough words or accurate ones to properly describe the pain a woman's body endures during labor. Although, Bill Cosby tried and as far as Emma is concerned he probably got the closest. He once said that to understand the pain of labor, take your bottom lip, and pull it up over your head. Fairly accurate statement as far as Emma was concerned but the pain you can't prepare for even knowing it's coming are the moments after.

Emma soon found in the moments after that every part of her being, in the strange moments of clarity and wakefulness she didn't understand following the birth, was calling out for her baby. Her son as it turned out. And denying that need because of how primal and natural left her in a state of inconsolable depression. Hearing her baby cry and knowing she couldn't respond tore her insides apart. She struggled to keep her head turned so she wouldn't look at him, struggled to keep herself from being drawn to him. Drawn this little boy she had carried inside of her for ten months, that she talked to everyday, and nurtured with her very being. It had felt like someone had torn her heart from her chest and crushed it into dust.

Laying in the hospital bed with her head turned towards the door where they had carried her son through and away to parts unknown she felt empty. She had gotten so used to the ever squirming human inside her body, talking to him as though he was right here, and could understand everything. Now, without him there she felt empty and lost. Again.

Dead. That's how she felt. The pain of labor long since passed. The feelings of love and wanting to smother her son in that left useless inside her. Not enough for him, not enough for anyone. It never has been and never will be. Emma felt like a shriveled up old prune, dead and dry inside with nothing left to give. Nothing that would be of any use to anyone. Closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the pillow, she let them roll freely down her cheeks mourning the loss of yet another person in her life taking comfort in knowing she had done the right thing. Her son would lead a better life than she had ever dreamed. He'll be loved by people who are ready to have a child.

And hopefully, he'll never be able to find her. If he's lucky – hopefully – he'll never want to look...

**2002: One Year Later**

Walking into her small studio apartment in Tallahassee Emma placed a bag onto the counter of her small kitchen. Staring out at the dark starry sky outside the sliding glass doors Emma walked outside to the little balcony there. She could smell the salty sea air from her little apartment only ten minutes from the water. Honestly, when she had chosen apartment she hadn't cared much about what it looked like or where it was or what kind of a neighborhood it was in only that it was by the water. Something about the water soothed her aching soul. Maybe it was the hope that one day it would be able to wash away all the pain she had endured in her life.

Leaning against the railing on the small balcony Emma could see her yellow bug from where she was. She probably should have gotten rid of that the moment she got it back, but she needed some place to stay until she figured out what she was going to do. Not to mention with the clean numbers and everything she didn't have to worry about anyone looking for it. Thinking back to the day she found that car again made her feel just a tad emotional, the day not helping but she quickly slammed her walls down around those feelings. That was another reason she had kept the car along with the keychain Neal had given turning it into a necklace so she could always keep it with her. They served as reminders. Reminders to never trust anyone with her heart again, it wasn't worth it, and in the end she would only end up hurt.

Emma remembered finding the car. She and Neal had selected several places to stash the car over the time they had been together. Should they ever need to hide the car and split up for whatever reason they had agreed on different hiding places. Emma had always been partial to hiding the car in plain sight, because hiding something as huge as a car would always look suspicious. If they were hide it out in plain view for anyone to see who would think the wiser of it? Emma also knew people would never look for a car they're sure it would never be which is why she always suggested hiding it where she had first stolen it. People, police they were already sure the car wouldn't be there which is why they would never think to look there. She was always partial to that particular hiding spot since she thought it was clever, she assumed that's why she found the car left in that exact spot. At least she knew Neal had listened to her sometimes, since it was left there for months on end without so much as being touched she knew she was right. People don't look closely enough at what's going on around them, and when it's too much to believe they just ignore. They'll see the car and think, it couldn't possibly be the same one that was stolen. They doubt themselves. Something Emma is learning is exactly the wrong impulse. Always go with the first instinct, it'll save you every time.

Once she opened the car she found a note from Neal saying he had taken her advice about taking the numbers from another car to clean it and clone it. She had also found all of her clothes and even her baby blanket left there for her. Of course, she noted there was no money left there but that didn't surprise her. Neal had taken the watches and ran, he was only leaving her the things he had no purpose for anymore. Herself amongst those useless things he was leaving behind. Picking through her stuff she found it was all there and was somewhat thankful to Neal that she didn't have to start over completely. No money, no food, but she wouldn't out in the cold and she at least had something ward the cold off with. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of their relationship, but it was something, and it let her know Neal wasn't completely heartless although he was close.

Blinking herself out of the memory Emma turned back towards the kitchen feeling the soothing balm of the ocean's smell do nothing to help her as her walls around her heart slide away. Staring at the bag on the counter, she hadn't been having a good week so far. Emma had been feeling far too distracted about today, it was all she could think about for the last week. Up until now she had been doing anything to try and avoid it, thinking about something else. Burying herself in her work, getting washed out drunk, and sleeping to try and numb out the pain but nothing worked. It seeped its way into her very soul until she just couldn't try to keep pretending today wasn't fast approaching. It wasn't until last night at exactly midnight when Emma woke up screaming hearing those cries from the infant boy she had given up a year that she decided ignoring it or pretending it didn't exist wouldn't work. Instead she decided to face the day head on.

Her baby boy was one year old today. Turning to look at the clock, in exactly tens minutes he'd be one year old.

The walls she had steadily built around her heart were doing nothing against the ever constant pain of losing him. She knew deep in her heart she would never have children again. She took every precaution in the book to avoid it now. If couldn't raise her son, if she couldn't be a mother to him then she wouldn't be a mother to anyone. Those walls did nothing to help against someone who already owed her heart, whatever was left of it, and even if she never met him the broken, damaged pieces of her heart belonged to him. No one else would ever hold them, they were her son's and her son's alone even if he didn't know it.

Moving to the bag from the grocery store she pulled out the small blue chocolate cupcake she had bought and a small little candle from the package she had also purchased. Sticking the candle into the cupcake she let herself wonder what he had done today to celebrate. Emma wondered if there was a huge party in his honor or if it was just his parents and him. A small little celebration at home with a cake that he probably ended up wearing more than eating. She wondered what he had gotten for his birthday, if he was playing with them now or if he was tucked away in his bed already fast asleep. Emma thought about what he might look like, if he had dark hair like his father or light blonde hair like herself. Although, all in all, Emma merely hoped that he'd had a good birthday with lots of smiles and hugs and kisses with family, warmth, and love surrounding him.

Watching as the clock moved ever closer to 8:15, only a mere minute away now Emma lit the candle on the cupcake. She watched as the flamed flickered for a moment just as the clock struck 8:15 making her son's one year mark on the planet. Closing her eyes Emma knew exactly what her wish was for this little boy: True Happiness.

With that thought in mind Emma blew out the candle.

**2011: Nine Years Later**

Every year like clockwork Emma would buy a chocolate cupcake, always chocolate because what little boy didn't just love chocolate? She would buy a chocolate cupcake on her son's birthday, light the candle, and make a wish at 8:15 every year. And every year she would make the same wish, that her son would find his happiness whatever that was for him. Of course, she always half expected one day he would show up on her doorstep no matter how hard she wished that wouldn't happen but what she never expected was that it would happen so soon. He was only ten for crying out loud!

Henry Mills, the whirlwind that is her son blew into her life with little explanation sweeping her entire life and everything up into a huge tornado and spitting it back out. At first she had just wanted to return him to his home, thinking he couldn't be more than just a troubled kid like she had been at his age until she quickly came to realize his problems had nothing to do with his personality but with his mother. Emma had thought he didn't realize his mother was just trying to protect him with rules and order and was upset about bedtime or eating vegetables until she quickly realized this woman wanted the kid to fit into a box. Regina Mills wanted him a certain way, to think and act a certain way and it was causing him to act out in different fashions. Just like her when she was younger no one was bothering to take the time to see what was really going on under the surface.

Sure, his teacher and shrink were trying but his mother bearing down on both of them to do things her way was by no means helping. Emma rapidly realized her son didn't have the happiness she had wanted for him and after spending so much time wishing for that to happen she couldn't leave. Emma knew she couldn't leave until her son had the happiness he deserved.

And damn it, if no one else was willing to fight for it, she sure as hell would.

**A.N. I hoped you liked the story! I had a lot of fun writing it, that's for sure. All I ask in return is that you drop me a review in that box below, like magic I have a price. Good or bad reviews, just don't be rude.**

**Thanks for reading! :)**

**-Amac**


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